The Attempt Chronicles of Isabella Swan
by made4drama
Summary: My name is Isabella Marie Swan and the day of the eclipse was attempt number one.


My name is Isabella Marie Swan and the day of the eclipse was attempt number one.

Four Months Earlier

I had not come to my decision lightly. I had weighed the pros and cons of both situations extensively, and would most likely be committed if anyone were to find my pro-con journal. Having made my decision, I found it was no longer painful to think of them, or of him. My eighteenth birthday, and the months following have progressed from devastating to complete emotional wreckage. I don't remember much from the first two months after they left me; I was practically catatonic. In that time, I managed to completely destroy the few human friendships I had in this town. Not that I realized that until after the accident.

Charlie had decided to ship me back to Renee because of my constant "zombie" impressions. I didn't even hear him tell me that, even though he claims he did. It took Renee showing up in my room in Forks and beginning to pack my things for me to snap out of it. I'm not proud of the tantrum I threw when I realized what was happening. Somehow though, I got my way. I convinced them that I was fine. That I could stay in Forks. In retrospect it probably had something to do with the whole 'I'm eighteen, if you make me leave I'll just move out' thing. I'm not proud of the things I said to Charlie and Renee that night, and I will forever regret letting Renee leave without apologizing to her. I was going to call and apologize to her when she got back to Florida, but she never made it back. Her car collided with a semi on her way to the airport and she bled to death before the paramedics arrived.

My suspicions that Charlie had never quite gotten over Renee were confirmed after the funeral. He would never come right out and say it, but I know that a part of him blames me for her death. He started working even more than he used to, leaving well before I woke up in the morning and often getting back after I'd gone to bed. He started working more weekend shifts, and on his free weekends he would go 'camping' with the guys in La Push. I rarely saw him anymore, and when I happened to be in the same room as him, he wouldn't acknowledge me. He wouldn't even glance at me.

I was a social pariah at school. No, not even that. It was as if I no longer existed to them. The disinterest I'd wanted so desperately when I'd first come to this school had finally been given to me in full and then some. Edward's empty chair in classes and the empty table in the cafeteria often had me skipping class and lunch for the solace of the library. I was most likely failing my senior year.

Finally, my best friend, the only person in my world that would speak to me, pushed me away. He finally realized what it was that I had been so scared he would. I'm not the kind of person who can have relationships. I'm not good enough for anyone. And with the loss of Jake's friendship, I am quite literally completely and utterly alone in this world.

The pain within my chest kept growing as time went by. It was not diminishing as Edward had promised it would. I still remembered everything about him, and about the rest of the family. Jake had healed it marginally, but when he too left me, the hole came rushing back, even larger than before. My heart was so emotionally shattered that I wondered how it still beat within my chest. I hated myself for my failures. I failed my parents, I failed my friends, I failed Jake, I failed the Cullen's – especially Edward, and I had failed myself.

The pain and self-loathing was growing far too much to bear. So I came to the decision to end my life. I had promised Edward I would take care of myself, for Charlie's sake, but Charlie wouldn't even acknowledge my existence anymore. I highly doubt my death would greatly affect his life. Perhaps it would be an inconvenience, having to burry my body, but after that his life would not be much different without me.

I didn't write a note. I'd heard somewhere that only people who don't want to die leave suicide notes. That's not why I didn't leave a note. I didn't leave one simply because there would be no one to care why. And I suppose if there are, my pro-con journal is wedged between my mattress and box spring.

The longest decision had been on how to go about ending my life. When, where, how… When was easy, as quickly as possible. The where came almost as quickly, where better but the place it all ended? In the woods where Edward left me, that was the day I had truly died. All these months I had been nothing but a corpse. Finally, how? I'd contemplated several different means. It came down to three. Option one, the left over painkillers from the James incident. I still had about three-fourths of the bottle left; it would be painless. Option two, slitting my wrists. Something about wasting the blood Edward wanted so desperately enticed me. Option three, one of Charlie's guns; a bullet to the heart would be fast, and there was something poetic about shattering a shattered heart. Option three would be the trickiest. I would have to steal Charlie's keys or pick the lock on the gun cabinet. I decided on option three.

Stealing the keys hadn't been as difficult as I had thought it would be. I drank four Cokes so that I could stay up until after Charlie had come home and gone to bed. He'd left his keys next to his dirty plate in the kitchen. It took me less than five minutes to open the gun cabinet, find the small handgun and ammunition, and lock back up. I set the keys back where I'd found them, and then hid the gun and ammunition in my underwear drawer. It was half past two and I only had two and a half more hours until Charlie would wake up and get ready for work. It was my intention to remain awake and go into the woods as soon as he had left. I dressed in my favorite jeans and a simple tank top and sweater. The next thing I knew, I was blinking away sleep with the rare sun shining through my window. It was four in the afternoon and I had fallen asleep. No matter, Charlie still wouldn't be home for another six hours at the earliest. I had plenty of time to die uninterrupted.

So here I found myself, standing on the trail five minutes from my back yard, where my heart first shattered. The forest looked different in the sunlight. It almost seemed as if nature itself was happy with my decision. The sky began to darken, but I paid it no attention. The weather in Forks is rarely sunny, and when it is, the sun doesn't last long.

I stared at the loaded gun. I'd only taken one bullet; it was all I would need. As I raised the gun to my chest, I wondered idly if Alice had seen this. She must have, I realized. I had made a number of conscious decisions that lead to this moment. The fact that no one was here only further cemented my knowledge. I was nothing more but a pet to the Cullen family. I hadn't come to this decision lightly, but I had made my decision. I pulled the trigger. A loud bang, a flash of pain, and then darkness.

The pain was gone. The hole in my chest was no longer there, maybe because I didn't seem to have a chest any more. A shattered heart made whole through further shattering, like I said, somewhat poetic. I was finally at peace.

I was finally able to think about the people that had caused such pain to think of when I was alive. I thought of my scatterbrained mother with happiness now. I remembered all of her crazy hobbies and wondered if I would see her now.

Her crazy hobbies led me to thinking of Alice Cullen's crazy antics. I missed her deeply and regretted that I would never see her again, but there was no pain. I thought fondly of her hyperactive energy and over indulgent spending.

I couldn't go down the memory road with Alice Cullen without Edward making an appearance, but like the others, his memory no longer hurt me either. I contemplated our relationship in startling clarity without the intense pain to stop me. As I analyzed each memory of Edward, I realized how unhealthy our relationship had been. It wasn't that I wasn't good for Edward Cullen; it was that Edward Cullen wasn't good for me. I wondered if that was the reason he had left, and then resolved not to think of it. Edward had never once allowed me to make a decision for myself when I was with him. He was always doing "what was best for me", sometimes without even consulting me. I loved him, I would always love Edward, but I realized now that I could never allow myself to be in such a situation again. Edward Cullen would have to do some serious growing up to ever be back in my life. Not that such a situation would ever happen, since I'm dead now and all.

Suddenly, I had a chest again. And as suddenly as my chest appeared, so did the pain. Whether from the gunshot, the hole, or a combination, I didn't know. But I needed to go back to the peace. I could not have an eternity of this pain. I don't know how long I was in pain in that oblivion, but with a final gasp of pain I found myself sitting on the forest floor. There was a bullet hole in my sweater but not on my chest. The gun was lying where I presume it had fallen, and not to far away, I found the bullet. It was bloodied and misshaped. It had most definitely gone into my chest, but how was it now lying on the forest floor? And how was I still alive?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Heroes, or any characters that you recognize.**


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